


That Time on the Pool Table.

by Knotted String (knottedstring)



Series: Five times Jared and Peter broke things during sex. [1]
Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knottedstring/pseuds/Knotted%20String
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared comes home drunk and upset. Peter comforts him. Smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Time on the Pool Table.

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd and translated from Hebrew. The Hebrew version, הפעם על שולחן הביליארד, is also published, you can check it out. Sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> This is for jekesta, who doesn't have to google translate things anymore.

Jared's fingers closed around the key clumsily and he pulled it out of his pocket. The pulling motion was too hard, and the keys flew out of his hand and hit the door noisily.

"Shhhh." Jared whispered to the keys, angrily. He bent down to find them with a dizzy head and numb fingers. When he found the keys and pulled back up, he wrestled with the keyhole for a long minute. "Stupid lock. You won't deny me entry. Come on. Ah!"

The door swung open before Jared had the chance to put the key in, and he stumbled in straight into Peter's firm torso. He took a step back and straightened himself against the door that Peter closed behind him. He didn't want to talk to Peter. In fact, that wasn't accurate. He wanted to yell at Peter, punch him in his stupid and pretty face, and then go to sleep. But somewhere between his brain, mouth and hands something went lost.

"Are you drunk?" Peter whispered at him angrily, holding his shoulders upright with both hands. His expression was a worried and angry one, and Jared could only assume it was due to the eight missed calls to his cell, which he ignored completely. "Where have you been?"

"It's none of your business, you're not my father." Jared spat the words out and pushed Peter away. He swaggered towards the kitchen with a glass of water in mind, but had to stop next to the pool table to rest for a bit and remember which foot goes down first. Peter, annoyingly showing off his soberness, hurried to fill a glass with water and hand it to Jared, who chose to ignore it.

"And speaking of my father," He snapped, "Your help in court was lovely today."

"Jared…" Peter shoved the glass into Jared's hand. Jared decided to listen to his churning stomach and took it, drinking slowly.

"Never mind." Jared mumbled and shoved the glass back at Peter. "What matters is that he crushed me to powder and you weren't there."

Peter took the glass back to the kitchen, his broad shoulders slouched in a way that made Jared want to absolve everything. But the anger, the shame, the humiliation of standing in court and feeling like a five years old because your fucking father knows everything about you, knows all of you weak points and uses them to throw you off your game during trial… That anger prevented Jared from forgiving him right away. The last sober cell in his brain, the only one that wasn't clouded by Jack Daniels, and Patron, and too many brand of beer, tried to remind Jared that it wasn't Peter's fault. That Peter knows and understands, and that he never would've missed a court battle against Leonard.

"I'm sorry." Peter's voice came from a very short distance, and Jared realized they were only a few steps from each other, and that he's leaning almost pathetically against the pool table.  He sent one hand forward to keep Peter where he stood. He wasn't ready to forgive him yet. He wanted to stay angry for a little bit more, at Peter that never showed, at his father who is such a great, great dick and at himself, for never growing the balls to confront his father properly. He knew that the second he would look up at Peter he will be done for. He tried to pull himself up but stumbled, drunker than he thought he was.

"I know." He said quietly, feeling Peter's hands stabilizing him, propelling him up a little bit. He understood the hint and allowed Peter to lift him to sit on the edge of the table. His head was turned down, eyes closed. Peter came closer and his proximity shifter something in Jared's brain. Suddenly, he wanted him closer. All the anger ebbed away and left him sad and in need of comfort. "Why can't I win, not even once?"

Peter didn't answer; he just took another step forward so Jared could feel the hit radiating from him, through his pajama pants and t-shirt. He lifted Jared's chin gently, and Jared opened his eyes. For a second, he felt that Peter understands so much, more than he meant to tell him, even. Jared felt the hard and angry line of his lips softening, and licked his bottom lip. Peter's eyes wandered down, fixating on Jared's wet lip and color rose in his cheeks and ears. He took a deep breath and then leaned in and kissed Jared.

Jared allowed himself to be kissed for just a moment, to receive the simple, calming comfort that Peter offered. A second later, it wasn't enough anymore. He parted his lips and licked Peter's lower lip, wrapping his lags around Peter's waist and his hand around Peter's neck. The air between them turned into vacuum, and Jared sighed loudly. This. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed all day. Peter panted into his mouth and hovered over him, pushing him flat on the table to gain some room to maneuver. Jared thrust his hips forward in an involuntary movement and sighed. His hands were buried deep in Peter's hair and he pulled the brown strands almost violently. Peter's hands, on the other hand, were unbuttoning Jared's shirt so quickly; Jared was surprised none of the buttons tore.

"Bed?" Peter panted loudly, his hands everywhere on Jared's chest and his lips nipping Jared's neck.

 "No." Jared pulled Peter's hair again to get their faces leveled and kissed him again, hard. "Here. Now. Like this."

Peter mumbled something intelligible and backed away for a second to open the button and zipper of Jared's suit pants. Peter's fingers brushed against Jared's growing erection and he moaned loudly, only the thought of Carmen or Pindar walking in on them forcing him to be quiet.  Peter pulled Jared's pants and underwear off and stroke his erection gently. Jared wanted to kick him but his pants bunched over his shows and tied his ankles together.

"Wait here." Peter said, more to Jared's cock than to his face, and disappeared down the hall into his room. Jared cursed him quietly, but decided to use the time to get read on his shoes and pants, a mission that appeared impossible and ended with Jared kicking off his shoes into the air and nearly falling off the table. When Peter returned, much too late in Jared's opinion, Jared was sprawled on the table, stroking his cock lazily, moaning. Peter smacked his hand off lightly away. "Don't you dare."

"Peter…" Jared could hear the plea in his voice, but couldn't care less. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving. He heard a rustle as Peter's shirt hit the floor, followed by his pants, and had to suppress his frustrated moan. "Come on, Peter."

Peter mumbled something but placed a blazing hand on Jared's thigh, massaging the area gently, and Jared could feel every muscle in his body tensing up. He heard the soft click of the bottle opening, and then felt Peter's hands pulling his pelvis forwards, off the rim of the table. Then, the wet splatter of lube and then- Oh god. Peter's finger. Jared moaned so loudly he could almost hear Peter's eye roll. "Shut up. I think I heard Pindar turning in his bed a minute ago."

"Yes, mention Pindar." He stifled another groan when Peter pushed another finger into him. "That's a good conversation topic when you're about to fuck me on our living room pool table."

"You're an insufferable drunk." Peter mumbled, starting to slide his fingers in and out smoothly. "Now shut it, or I'll have to gag you."

But Jared couldn't help himself. He was always loud and he knew it. He tried, he really did, but too minutes later he heard Peter sighing and suddenly the thumb of the hand not currently occupied with doing wonders to his body started rubbing against his lips. Jared closed his eyes tighter and tried his very best not to come right there. He closed his lips around the thumb and started sucking in tandem with Peter's motions. He heard Peter gasping for breath. Three minutes later he couldn't stand it anymore. He opened his mouth and tried to speak around the thumb still pressed against his tongue. "Peter. Now."

Peter understood him, he always did, and Jared felt unbearably empty and cold when Peter removed his fingers. His tongue, now free, darted out to lick his lips. He heard the condom wrapper, and then the bottle opening again, and felt Peter coming closer. "Open your eyes."

He obeyed, and as soon as they were open he felt Peter sliding home easily. His half moan-half shout was nipped in the bud by the same thumb, and Jared could feel his blood boiling. He sucked Peter's thumb in and bit it lightly, feeling Peter's rhythm faltering and then speeding up. Peter's free hand was splayed against Jared's sternum, pinning him to the table. Their eyes were locked on each other, and Jared could almost feel himself falling in love. He closed his eyes, sucked Peter's thumb hard and then croaked out "More."

As if only waiting for his queue, Peter sped up some more, thrusting in almost painfully. His hand left Jared's chest and he wrapped his fingers around Jared's cock, pulling hard. Jared felt, for the second time today, all of his muscles pulling tight. Fire pooled low in his stomach and he felt his breath shattering, coming out broken and loud. The thumb in his mouth was replaced with Peter's other four fingers, and Jared licked and bit them, feeling his entire body convulsing.

The force of his orgasm blinded him for a moment. He didn't even noticed Peter coming, until he opened his eyes with effort, panting, and found that Peter toppled over him. The fingers that were in his mouth were now wrapped around his cheek, only the thumb still stroking his lower lip. Peter was breathing heavily and Jared noticed sadly that he was no longer inside him. Peter's lips were pressed against Jared's earlobe, sucking it lightly. "Jared…" He muttered brokenly, "I-"

What he was exactly, Jared never found out, because at that moment the table gave a horrifying cricking sound. Jared was hazy with alcohol and sex, but Peter was lighter on his feel given the circumstances. He had enough time to mutter "Shit," before one of the table's legs gave and the entire table tipped over.

Jared found himself sprawled on the floor, covered in sweat and semen, Peter half on top of him, and half on the pile of their clothes. Out of the haze and the exhaustion that pulled him in he managed to say "Peter, we broke the table."

Peter got up heavily, an action that Jared admired at that moment, and the helped Jared up. He collected their clothes while Jared leaned against the toppled table again, then grabbed his arm and dragging him into Peter's room, shoving him into bed. "It's better than that time with the jacuzzi."

Jared ignored the fact that he's filthy and smelly, and burrowed into the blankets on the side that wasn't Peter's. "I'm not sure you're right."

He could hear Peter laugh behind him as he got into bed. Jared leaned back and sunk into the warmth provided by Peter's arms. "You're so annoying, Jared. Why do you always have to argue?"

"Why do _you_ always have to argue?" Jared retorted, yawning, and if Peter said anything back, he didn't hear.

 


End file.
